12 Days of Anxious Skies
by Hanabi Nanami
Summary: Kakashi's identity is revealed during an anbu mission, causing dire consequences that could mean the death of an innocent girl.
1. Gone

There was so much blood, I was struggling to try and keep my hand pressed on the wound. I'd lost so much blood already; my limbs were beginning to tremble. My vision blurred, I slipped from the treetops, and plummeted to the rocky ground below. As I landed, the wound at my side burst open once more, spewing out blood. My head banged against a rock, lulling me in and out of consciousness.

I could hear soft footsteps coming up from the woods behind me. Dreading that my enemy, which I had been fleeing from, had caught up and was going to finish me off, I tried lifting my arms to perform one final justsu. The justsu which would disintegrate my body, along with all the secrets of my village it held. My arms merely went limp and fell back down to the ground, sending shrieks of pain coursing through them. I heard a twig snap close by me. I looked up to see the shadow of a woman overtop of me, and I blacked out.

I awoke several hours later in a daze. My body was numb and stiff, but the pain from my abdomen had relatively subsided. I slowly moved my arm to feel of the deadly wound at my side, only to find it tightly wrapped in bandages, very neatly I must add. As I ran my fingers down where I knew the injury to be, I stuck my fingers into a warm, thick liquid. I lifted my arm slightly and saw my own blood slowly dripping down off my fingers. I must have been restless in my sleep in order to reopen the wound.

Reopen…that's right. I suddenly remembered that someone had to have cleaned it and wrapped it. But who…? I couldn't think of who would have done such a thing. The woman from the woods…but…who was she? An enemy? No. She would've killed me on the spot. A fellow shinobi? Possibly…but it seemed highly unlikely. Surely no one else from Konoha was anywhere nearby. I looked around the room for some sort of sign.

I was lying on a flat in the center of an almost empty room. Someone had taken a great deal of care in order to be sure I stayed warm; I had a mountain of blankets wrapped around me just perfectly as to not come in contact with my injuries. I looked around once more. It was a simple room, wooden floors, white walls, a set of doors leading outside and another set leading to what I assumed was the rest of a house or something of that sort. There were a few tattered books sitting on a lonely bookshelf in the corner, as well as a dresser with a few shirt sleeves and pant legs hanging out. Nothing out of the ordinary. Certainly nothing that could give me any clues as to what was going on.

Right beside me was a lonely bucket of water. Was it for me to drink? Or was it left over from cleansing my damaged flesh? If so, I knew not to take the chance of drinking it, just in case.

What was probably an hour later, I heard footsteps coming from behind the door that led to the rest of the building. Just to be safe, I pretended to still be unconscious, but kept my eye slightly open in order to observe the person coming into the room.

At first, I only saw a small pair of feet walk through the doorway. I looked up slightly to see a young woman walking over to me. She was no enemy that I recognized…but she was no ally of mine either. Could she be trusted? I couldn't tell, but if she was the one who had tended to me, she was obviously doing more good than harm.

She placed her small, pale palm on my forehead, which was when I noticed I was wearing neither my headband nor my anbu mask, nor my shirt for that matter. Feeling my head for a few moments, I could hear her dunking something in the bucket of water beside me. I could not see far enough over to tell what it was, but soon after, I felt a cool wet cloth being placed on my forehead. I must've been running a fever. Most likely, from some sort of minor infection.

I figured that moment was as good of a time as any to make my consciousness known. I pretended that the cold water had startled me awake; I even jumped slightly to amplify the effect. Probably too well, I should add; I accidently knocked over the bucket with my arm, and splashed to poor girl with a bucketful of cold water. Once I had realized what happened, I shot straight up and quickly apologized, only to injure myself further by tearing the infliction open once more.

She instantly forgot about the water, and without any acknowledgment of me, started to wash the wound with the cool water, then applied some sort of herbal remedy she had brought in with her. It stung slightly, but after a moment, it seemed to leach away all of the pain. She removed the careful bandage work, which had been torn apart by my sudden movement, and gently rewrapped my waist.

"I'm sorry about that," I whispered slowly through my now parched lips. I could tell I was dehydrated. How long had I been out? Hours? Days? I thought of asking her, but for some reason, decided against it.

"Don't worry about it," she said back to me in a quiet voice, smiling. I got a good look at her for the first time as she turned her attention to soaking up the mess of water I had made. She was dripping wet, yet again, my fault. Small drops of water fell from loose pieces of her long, black hair which had fallen from her long braid. Her body fit her small voice, even in large clothing; I could tell she herself was quite small. I didn't even notice her big, blue eyes until she turned to me halfway through her scrubbing. She smiled again and asked, "Would you like me to get you anything?"

I felt slightly guilty for being waited on, but I knew I was in no condition to be taking care of myself. So, I gave in. "I…could use a drink of water. That is…" I looked over to the puddle she was soaking up. "if you can trust me with water."

She giggled in an almost childish way. "That's no problem at all." As she finished with my mess, she left with the bucket, now empty, and came back holding a glass of water. She tried coaxing me into allowing her to give me the water herself, but I insisted that I was capable of sitting up now that I knew of the status of my wound.

She helped me slowly sit up, and placed the glass in my hands. I noticed, from her dripping sleeves, that she was still in the same wet clothing. "Say," I begin in between sips of water. "Don't you want to go and change into something slightly drier?"

She looked down, as if she hadn't noticed she was drenched. "Oh my, I suppose so." She went over to the overflowing dresser, and fumbled through the clothing, as if looking for something in particular. She held up a few things, which I didn't pay much attention to, being distracted by quenching my thirst, and she set them to the side, to save them.

"Lose your clothes, did you?" I asked jokingly.

She turned to me and smiled. "Nah, I'm just trying to find something that'll fit me." And she returned to scrounging around.

I was perplexed. "Aren't they yours?"

"No." She replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "This is a traveler's cabin so, all of these are old clothes left behind by travelers who didn't need them anymore. They're just perfect for when things like this happen."

While she left to change, I slowly got up, and set down my glass on a small table by the flat. I walked over to the dresser slowly, assuming my clothes would be somewhere in the drawers. It just about killed me to stay standing for even for that short amount of time. But, after all, I couldn't just go around with nothing on except my pants.

She returned a few moments later, wearing what was obviously men's clothing, even though the ruffled sleeves of her white shirt hinted of a feminine quality. "You shouldn't be standing up so soon." She came over to me and had me sit down on a stool she pulled over from the corner by the bookshelf.

"Just wondering wear my clothes disappeared to." I said, slouching to not disturb the muscles in my side.

"All you had to do was ask, sir." Being called sir, even coming from a woman who I could tell was not much younger than me, still made me feel like an old man. "I washed out the dried blood and hung them out to dry. For now," she handed me a stack of clothes from out of the dresser. "I'm afraid these will have to do."

I took the clothes and attempted to change on my own, but she noticed from the corner of the room, where I asked her to stand, that my muscles wouldn't allow it. So, I had to let the woman change my clothes. Not like it had never happened before, it's quite common in hospitals, but not usually in this kind of scenario.

I must've seemed reluctant to accept her help, even though it was exactly how I was feeling. "No need to be shy," she said quietly, as if reading my mind. "It's nothing that I haven't witnessed before." This didn't really make me any more comfortable with the situation, but I allowed it, while I tried to examine her words. Was she a nurse, perhaps? If so, then it would make sense. I just hoped that I had analyzed her words correctly.

Over the next week or so, I recuperated in that traveler's cabin with who was basically my own personal nurse. She tended to my injuries, and served me meals. I spent my spare time reading my book, which unfortunately I finished and ended up resorting to the lonesome bookshelf, which mostly was comprised of old herb guides and forest maps of the surrounding areas.

I showed her the basics on how to wield a knife. I figured a young woman traveling alone should at least have some means of protecting herself. She seemed interested in learning, telling me how her father was an avid knife collector, but she had never been permitted to wield one. She caught on pretty quickly, though she was squeamish about hurting anything, which I observed when she found a snake in her room and couldn't bring herself to kill it. "Don't worry," I assured her. "If the time comes when you need to really protect someone, you'll find the will to kill." She didn't seem very pleased at the idea, but she accepted it nonetheless.

On the day when I was going to return to my duty, I asked her, "Why did you take care of me in the first place?" This question had been in the back of my mind the entire time, but I figured it was not wise to show distrust towards her when she was the one taking care of me.

"Well," she began, "I found you unconscious in the woods while I was traveling. It was obvious that you were badly injured, so I made sure to tend to your wounds at least. After all," she traced the Konohagakure symbol on my headband and continued. "You are Kakashi of the Sharingan, so I owe you at least that much." I was astonished, not only at the fact that she could tell I was a shinobi, even though I was practically unarmed, but also by the fact that she knew who I was…by name as well. How long had she known? Could she tell immediately just from my sharingan eye, if she had even noticed it at all? Or, had she recognized me from some previous encounter of which I had no recollection?

"You know who I am?" I began to grow suspicious of the woman, although I don't quite know why, I was well known in the shinobi world. But, she at least seemed…to be no shinobi… "How could you tell?"

"Simple." She smiled brightly. "You are well known around my village for the deeds you did for our people." Personally, I had no clue what she was talking about, not that I remembered many of my missions in particular as it was. So, I figured that I should simply leave it at that. The less she knew the better.

We just barely went our separate ways when an icy gust of wind rustled through the leaves of the trees around me. I recognized the bone chilling blast, and I knew instantly…they were back. They had found me, and the chase was back on.

Down the other end of the trail, I heard a recognizable voice scream out. It was _her_. I sprinted through the treetops as fast as my still recovering body would allow. In a clearing about half a mile away, I found her lying on the ground, unconscious and tied up, with blood down her face from her head, where she must have been struck by a blunt object. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by a hoard of rogue shinobi. I had fallen right into their trap. They used the poor, innocent girl to lure me right to them.

Before I could lunge at one of them, they all moved to the girl, with one of the big guys holding her up by her limp arms. Their leader, whom I knew of as simply, Kentaro, spoke out to me, "If you want to see the girl alive again, you'll bring us what we want. You know exactly what I'm talking about." And that, I did. This group of rogue shinobi was after nothing but power, often seeking scrolls containing the most forbidden justu. I knew that's what they were speaking of. It was the scroll which I had been sent to pick up for safety, before they tried to stop me by attacking me.

"And if I don't get the scroll to you?" I asked in a monotonous voice, trying to prolong my time for thinking, because I already knew the answer.

"It's simple." The big guy holding the girl said. "If you don't give us the scroll…" he pretended to slit the girl's throat. "Get it?"

"Got it." I said, not entirely paying attention to the conversation; I was already deep in thought of how to tackle the situation. Was that one girl's life worth the chance of them getting their hands on a forbidden justu? What was I thinking…she had just as much of a right to live as anyone else. It wasn't her battle. "Leave the girl out of this." I said, a bit more demandingly.

"Ha!" One of the women stepped forward. "This guy thinks he's in control of the situation!" They all chuckled to themselves.

"The girl has nothing to do with this!" I lashed out at that, growing angrier each passing second.

"But," Kentaro spoke again. "You obviously don't want to watch the girl die." He got a twisted grin on his face. "How about a deal? If you bring us the scroll, you and the girl both get to walk away and keep your lives. But, if you don't…" he held up a knife to the girl, "she dies, and then we hunt you down."

I sighed, realizing I wasn't going to get any better of an agreement out of the likes of them. "Very well."

"In that case, you have 12 days. If you're not at our doorstep with the scroll by sundown of the 12th day…" he snickered at his thought "…off with her head…" And then, like the wind, they were gone.


	2. The Search

My full sprint back to Konoha was a short one, although to me, it seemed to be an eternity. My legs could not carry me fast enough through the dense treetops which stood between Konohagakure and the urgent which news I needed to report to Lord Hokage.

I could feel my legs trembling as I went. I felt of my side, now nearly fully healed, to be sure I wasn't losing any blood. Thankfully, not a drop…so why was I so weak-kneed? I could answer that simply; an innocent girl was going to be killed unless I presented the enemy with the forbidden scroll of which I was ordered to protect. A complete failure of a mission…unforgivable. I tripped over a tree root as I began running on solid ground. "Damn it," I cursed at myself.

I felt even more wobbly as I entered the village. I tried to hide the new limp I had received due to the fall. There was no need to cause any unnecessary alarm. I leaned against a wall as I saw young Iruka-sensei walk with a small boy into a ramen shop. I tried to blend in…but with no luck.

He smiled at me. "Mission successful, I presume?"

I couldn't lie to that guy, he would've seen right through me. I slightly walked closer to him, with the blonde-haired boy staring at me oddly. "Not quite." I replied.

I regained my normal walking through sheer will power, and walked past him, with just enough distance between us for me to hear the boy say, "Who is that guy?"

Lord Hokage's office was busy, as always. After all, he had an entire force of shinobi to manage. Though, also as always, he was able to make time, rather quickly, for important information from a high ranking jounin, like myself. "Kakashi-sensei, so you're saying that you have failed your mission of keeping the forbidden scroll away from the enemy?"

"Not quite, Lord Hokage. The enemy is not in possession of the scroll." I sighed, sitting down in a chair. "But…I'm afraid, it's become _slightly_ more complicated than that…"

"I'm listening." He replied sternly, prepared for the worst.

"Well," I begin. I knew that I couldn't hold back the truth from him, so I guessed it was be best to be blunt. "It seems that an innocent civilian has been brought into the situation, and she is now being held as their hostage."

His eyes narrowed. "And what exactly do they want from us in return?"

"The scroll." I sighed and rubbed my eyes. "12 days…" I murmured, trying to remember the words Kentaro had spoken. "If they don't get the scroll in 12 days…the girl dies."

Lord Hokage leaned forward. "And who…exactly is this girl?"

I lowered my head, "To be honest, I have no clue. I never got her name. But…she did know who I was…so no doubt, she's knows a thing or two about our village."

"They'll torture her for sure if they believe she has any sort of useful information."

I knew it was true. They'd get any information out of her that they could. They'd ask questions, which…she'd probably never be able to answer. After the 12 days, if they didn't have the scroll, she'd no longer be of any use to them. And then…she'd be dead. I tried to think…if I could remember something she said…maybe I could have some clue as to who she was. It hit me. "She said…that she knew of me because of something I did for her village. Something, that made her want to help me when I was injured."

"So…" he shuffled through his paperwork, finding a page with a list of places, which didn't mean anything to me. But, it obviously meant something to him. "She must be from a village we're on good terms with, from a mission which you were a part of. That narrows it down quite a bit."

"Lord Hokage, if I may be so bold…I don't see why finding out which village she's from is crucial at this moment. Shouldn't we be figuring out the next course of action before we start background checks?"

"Ordinarily, I'd agree. But, this case is somewhat odd. You don't know her name…and she was vague about her village and how exactly she knows you. For all we know, this could be an elaborate hoax…to have you deliver the scroll to their doorstep." He set down the paper and began crossing things out. "Although it's unlikely that it's the case…first I want to be sure that this girl actually exists…"

The files were given to me to sort through, since I was the only person who could identify the girl. The people were narrowed down: villages we had good relations with, villages which I had missions in, female members of those villages, ages around 20-30 years old, medical profession. After all that sorting, 86 people were still remaining, which, I had to sort through only by a picture. I could easily eliminate those with different colored hair or eyes. Black hair, blue eyes…but that's all the useful clues I could really remember. 5 remained, and they were all from different corners of the world. I had a 20% chance of guessing correctly, but I didn't quite trust those odds.

What else? What else could she have said that could tell me more about her? The herbal remedies she had…could that help narrow it down? I looked once more through the papers. That narrowed it down to 3. She did know about traveler's cabins, which even I had never heard of. So, she must travel a lot…not any help there. But…if she knew where the cabin was…then she had to have used the route before. It was not a well-worn trail which we had been using. So, she must be from an area not too far away.

With that, I narrowed it down to a single person, Sora Kata, the only one who lived within a 100 mile radius of Konohagakure. Looking at the picture again, I could vaguely recognize her, though the facial expression was dull, not like the ever-smiling face I had encountered. Somehow I knew her face…why hadn't I noticed it sooner?

I had met her…once…many years ago. The memory of her started out vague, but…as I thought carefully, I remembered the mission more clearly. Ah, yes…it all started coming back to me…


	3. Red Snow

It was 4 years earlier, soon after a harsh winter storm. Lord Hokage asked me to travel to a nearby city called Tsuki, where civil unrest had been on the rise due to the lack of fairness of the new laws passed by the city's council.

I came across the city, which was built into mountains, around mid-day, while the sun was high in the sky. Many of the buildings were beginning to crumble, even though they did not seem too old. I judged the high mountain winds had a hand in that. The city wasn't a pretty picture. The buildings were all a greyish-brown color. Even the piling up snow didn't make it any better; it only became grey as it had been stepped on multiple times. The outer city streets were deserted, which I found odd for that time of the day.

As I walked through the city, I came across many boarded up buildings which must've at one point been small businesses. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the eyes of people staring through small cracks between the planks. They were hiding? The question was…from who…or possibly, what? Surely not from me…this left me only more curious as to the state of this city.

I looked around to get a better idea of what was happening in the city. The piles of snow covered much of the roads and buildings, leaving little to be observed. One thing did catch my eye. Snow…_blood red_ snow… I was surprised I hadn't noticed it sooner. The deep color was going down the side of one of the multiple mountains surrounding the city. It looked as if it had been dumped from a single building which was built into the mountainside. Was it real blood? I couldn't tell from so far away. But, I knew one thing for sure…I did not like the feeling I was getting.

As I walked further into the city, I could faintly hear screaming coming from what appeared to be a town square. Of course, I had to investigate. There was a large group, no more of a mob, of people surrounding something. I was able to push my way through the screaming people to see what was going on.

In the center of a clearing of the people, stood a blood-stained whipping post. This alone was enough for me to wish I had not encountered this event. What I saw dangling from the whipping post, was far worse. A man, who must've been only a few years older than me, was knelt in front of it, with his hands dangling from the chain connecting him to the post. His back was covered in large lacerations from the whip, pouring out blood onto the cobblestone street. He, himself, was unconscious. How many lashes had they already inflicted on him? I couldn't even count the number of bloody marks, but it was certainly enough to knock him out.

By then, I could understand the people's screams. They all screamed, "He is innocent…let him go!" Many of them had tears streaming down their cheeks. As they yelled, the man holding the whip paid no attention. He raised the whip once more, and struck the poor man. As the tail of the whip came in contact with the man's bloody flesh, the crowd flinched, and continued screaming, even louder.

I noticed her, for a brief moment. She stood across the clearing from me. Men dressed in the same uniform as the man doing the whipping held her back by her arms. She seemed almost like a child, with tears running down her face. She was screaming something, but I couldn't make it out over the roaring of the crowd, which seemed about ready to riot. It was, I believe, something along the lines of, "Stop! Stop! Let him go!" She seemed to be much more frantic than the others I observed. I assumed she must've known him personally. Perhaps a friend, or a brother, or a cousin. Either way, I knew that what was happening was immoral.

Before I knew what I was doing, I stepped in front of the whip as it started coming down once more. It struck me on my arm, though it was nothing I couldn't handle. I turned my attention to the man with the whip, and declared, "That is enough. Whatever this man has done, he's obviously paid for."

The crowd gasped, apparently they never thought of intervening. The thing is…why did_ I_? I didn't know the man, or anyone there for that matter. I didn't even know what crime he had committed to earn such a punishment. I remembered the faces…screaming, crying, and terrified. Young children, being hidden from their parents as best as they could, watched a man being whipped to near death. That's why…that's why I stopped it. You could tell by the people, that it was unjust.

Lord Hokage's words floated through my head. "Civil unrest has been on the rise due to the lack of fairness of the new laws passed by the city's council. I need you to try and put an end to it." Civil unrest? No…this was political unrest… Our report must've come from a politician looking to stop the people from uprising. When in truth, that's exactly what was needed.

The uniformed men sneered at me, but didn't bother starting any trouble. The first coiled up his whip in his hand, while the other two dropped the girl onto her knees. They pushed their way through the crowd and made their way backs towards a large building which I assumed was some sort of city hall.

The girl got to her feet and stumbled over to the man, still chained to the post. Most of the crowd dispersed, but a few stragglers stayed behind to help. The chain was unwrapped from around his wrists, and he fell limp to the ground. The few men left behind picked up the man as the girl tried to stop the bleeding…mostly unsuccessfully… As they passed me, the girl whispered, "Thank you." And then they carried him off, up to the mountain house with blood red snow.

I don't necessarily remember anything else which was important from that mission. The disputes were resolved, and both the civilians and politicians were decently happy with the results. The whipping post was also removed, to everyone's relief.

The man had turned out to be the girl's oldest brother, Shusuke Kata, who had been falsely accused of murder when he was found with a drowned woman, who he had actually been trying to save. As punishment, he was sentenced to 30 lashes…though he ended up with 60, passing out after 50…and life in prison.

Asking around, I found out the meaning of the blood snow down the side of the mountain. The way it was explained, whenever someone in the Kata family suffered a wrongful death, they would drain the blood from the victim's body, and pour it down the side of the mountain. This was so that the murder(s) would be forever reminded of the loss they had caused. Being on the leeward side of the mountain, the blood was rarely ever covered by snow or blown away by wind.

I refused to have anyone tell me the fate of unfortunate Shusuke Kata. I admit I was curious…until right before I left the city…when I watched two men pour a tub of deep red blood down the cursed slope.


End file.
